i never wanted to go
by geekchic64
Summary: Clarke knew the risks. Clarke knew the outcome. Clarke knew that if there was another way, she would do it. But Clarke knew that this was the only option. So Clarke was doing what she had to do. Because she had to do this. or: The Eternal Sunshine au that nobody asked for and nobody wanted


**Disclaimer:** I don't own _The 100_

 **A/N:** I'm the #1 fan of angst, and what's more painful than an Eternal Sunshine au?  
I have this entire fic laid out and about 99% of it planned, but I had the first part done and I just needed to get it out here. It'll be posted in probably like four or five chunks, but there'll be 18 total parts (you'll see what I mean).  
But, anywho.  
I'm super excited about this one and I'm going to focus all of my energy on it.  
I really want to do it justice.  
Enjoy! X

* * *

 _._

 _Prologue_

.

Clarke walked into the white room, the bright lights blinding her for a moment making her blink rapidly. The air smelled like nothing other than _sterile_ and she doubted that there would be a speck of dust to be found anywhere.

"Please, lie down here, Clarke," a man behind her spoke, his voice slightly muffled from the mask he was wearing.

Clarke numbly nodded her head before making her way over to the narrow bed in the middle of the room. She gave a soft hiss when her skin came into contact with the cold plastic. Gulping, she laid completely down to stare up at a light above her. She fixed her gown as the light was moved out of her face, allowing her to see three people moving around her and the same man who just spoke looking down at her.

"I apologize if this is all a bit scary, but I hope you realize this is all to ensure your safety." His green eyes bore into hers.

 _They're the wrong shade._

"Of course," she whispered. She didn't think she could muster anything stronger.

The man's eyes crinkled at their corners and Clarke imagined he was smiling sympathetically under his mask.

 _I don't want your sympathy. I want you to fix me._

"The procedure is going to take about ten hours, but I assure you we are going to take great care of you. You're going to have to be awake towards the end of it to make sure everything went according to plan, but you won't remember it. Now I know we've been over the risks and the details many times, but… As a last moment check-up, are you absolutely sure you want to follow through with this, Clarke? Once you do, there's no turning back."

Clarke closed her eyes and her mind flashed to the dock, a beautiful sunset painting the sky, a hand tightly clasped between hers. To the old bookstore three blocks down from the apartment, filled with stories she had observed and stories she created. To a small smirk and shivers down her spine. To laughter and light. To rain and a coldness that went deep through her bones. To rocks and promises. To lemonade and fallen flower petals.

To the beginning.

To the end.

 _I'm making this decision with my head… and for my heart._

"Yes."

The word was final and absolute.

Clarke knew the risks.

Clarke knew the outcome.

Clarke knew that if there was another way, she would do it.

But Clarke knew that this was the only option.

So Clarke was doing what she had to do.

Because she _had_ to do this.

"Okay. Now I want you to take deep breaths for me Clarke, and start counting back from one hundred."

"One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight…"

Then there was nothing.

Just like Clarke wanted.

.

 _Part XVI_

 _._

Clarke didn't know what she expected when she woke up, but finding herself in her empty bed back at her cold apartment was not it. She frowned as she sat up, taking note that she was back in her pajamas and that it was still raining just like yesterday.

"How did I get here…?"

 _Octavia must have brought me back home._

Clarke grabbed her phone to check the time; it was early. She traced the crack in her screen before tossing it back on her bed.

Clarke sighed as she stood up and walked to the kitchen to get a cup of water. She frowned deeper at the dead plant in the window that she and Lexa bought last year. Lexa was always the one to water it and so when Lexa left –

 _Wait._

Clarke stopped in her tracks, eyes wide as she stared at the plant.

 _Why do I still remember Lexa? I thought…?_

Just then there was a knocking at the door. Shaking her head, Clarke moved to open the door, the dead plant drifting to the back of her mind.

She opened the door to reveal a somber looking Raven and Octavia. As soon as the door opened, Octavia moved forward to wrap Clarke in a warm and tight hug.

"Hey babe…"

Clarke wrapped her arms around Octavia's waist and nuzzled her face into her neck. She felt her throat tightening and tears pricking at the back of her eyes. But Clarke knew they wouldn't fall.

She ran out of tears when she made the decision three days ago.

"Hey O," Clarke whispered. Then Octavia pulled out of the hug to be replaced by Raven.

"You look like shit, Griffin," Raven spoke as she pulled away from the hug. Clarke rolled her eyes.

"Good morning to you too."

Clarke followed the two girls to her kitchen when she stopped in her tracks again, a crippling sense of déjà vu crawling up her spine.

 _Wait…_

… _This all happened this morning… Am I…? Okay, think… If this is really yesterday, Raven is going to complain about there not being any food in the –_

"Jesus, Clarke, there's literally no food in this fridge. How the hell are you still alive?"

Clarke blinked.

"Well 'alive' is a subjective term," the words were spoken without any thought.

 _I said that exact thing this morning._

 _Okay. Okay, this is okay. If I really am going through my memories… Then Octavia will be sitting on the kitchen counter with her shoes off. She'll be wearing her umbrella socks because of the weather._

Clarke slowly walked into the kitchen. She found Raven raiding her cabinets looking for _something_ to eat, and Octavia sitting on the countertop next to the stove, her converses on the floor below her dangling feet.

She was wearing her umbrella socks.

 _Right. Okay. I'm just going through my memories. This is okay. I can do this. It's just memories, Clarke. You wanted them gone, so they're going to be gone. I guess you just have to… Walk your brain through the steps. Okay. I can do that._

"Do you like my socks, Clarke? I figured they were appropriate considering it's fucking pouring outside."

Clarke pulled herself out of her thoughts and blinked at Octavia.

"Oh! Um… Yeah… Very fitting for today." Clarke numbly turned to go and sit down on the sofa in the living room.

Her eyes were drawn back to the dead plant.

Now that she was _here_ … Clarke wasn't sure if she was able to go through the memories again. It was hard enough the first time…

 _Victory stands on the back of sacrifice._

Clarke shook her head and swiped under her eyes.

The sofa softly dipped next to her, and she knew it was Octavia. There was a warm hand rubbing circles on her back and Clarke finally pulled her eyes away from the plant to look over at Octavia. She had a sad smile and it made Clarke want to scream or do _something_.

But Clarke did nothing.

Just like before.

"Everything's going to be okay, Princess." Clarke nodded slowly in return. "But are you absolutely sure you want to do this? Because –"

"Stop it, Octavia," snapped Raven from behind them. Octavia clenched her jaw and turned to glare at her.

"I'm just making sure –"

"We all know what you're doing, Octavia. We all know you don't agree with what Clarke is doing. But _Clarke_ decided that this was what was best. For _her._ This is her brace, alright? We all know you're all about 'get knocked down, get back up,' O. Well this is her getting back up. It just doesn't look the way you want it to."

Octavia's glare intensified as she stood up and rounded on Raven.

"Don't you even _dare_. I said I would always be here for her, and I'm here, aren't I? I'm not going to leave her like –"

"Stop."

Clarke knew where this argument was going, and it was hard enough to listen to the first time around. She wasn't about to watch her two best friends fight over her while she was in front of them.

"Just… Please, stop," the two other girls awkwardly stood still, looking at Clarke with looks close to pity.

 _Better get this memory rolling. I'm obviously here for a reason… Oh. Right._

Clarke sighed and look to Octavia.

"Octavia, did you bring Lincoln's truck?"

"Yeah, I –"

"Okay, good, thank you," Clarke pushed off the sofa and walked into the kitchen, brushing past Raven on the way. She dug under the sink until she found the box of giant trash bags. She walked back out to the living room to find Raven and Octavia softly whispering to each other. They jumped apart when Clarke cleared her throat.

"I started packing up some of the stuff last night, but I… Well, I got some of it. If you both could take a bag and… You know what stuff is mine. And she took most of it when she left, so," Clarke cleared her throat again. "There isn't much left, but the doctors said I can't have anything that could possibly trigger me after the procedure, and what's left… It's enough… I go in in about five hours, so…"

"Yeah, of course," Octavia whispered and Raven nodded, both grabbing a bag from the box in Clarke's hand. With one more sad smile, they turned and headed off in different directions to collect Lexa's things from the apartment.

Both of them ignored the closed door at the end of the hallway.

 _Of course… Because why would it change this time._

Squaring her shoulders, Clarke marched slowly to the door. She placed her hand on the cool metal knob, took a deep breath, and turned the handle.

She had to lean against the door to keep from collapsing.

The room was filled with Lexa. Everywhere she looked, she was _there._

Clarke had avoided her art studio for three weeks because she knew what it held.

Memories.

From the numerous canvases strewn across the room to open sketchbooks to the giant blue paint stain on the floor. Whether Lexa was there as a haunting phantom or was there as a sketched hand or painted eyes (she never could get the color right), she was everywhere. It knocked the wind out of her.

Again.

Clarke took a deep shuttering breath and slowly made her way into the studio. Once in the middle, she stopped and slowly spun, taking in all the art and memories around her.

Clarke felt her heart shattering all over again.

 _What happened to us…?_

Clarke shook her head and began placing canvases in the trash bag, ignoring what was on them and ignoring the pounding of her heart. She thought she was going to pass out, even though she knew she wouldn't.

Clarke was on her second bag and the room was almost empty (a very foreign sight to her), when she found the sketchbook. It was a brown moleskin with two birds of gold carved into the front cover. The outside was beautiful in its simplicity and it took Clarke's breath away just like the first time she saw it.

She remembered what it held and Clarke wanted to just chuck it in the bag, but she knew she couldn't.

With shaking hands, she opened the worn sketch book.

The first page had a note, neatly scrawled in Lexa's perfect script.

 _Clarke,_

" _The more one does and sees and feels, the more one is able to do, and the more genuine may be one's appreciation of fundamental things like home, and love, and understanding companionship."_

 _Go on an adventure with me. Be brave. Don't let fear beat you. Don't let it beat this. Take a chance. Let's see the world and let the world see us._

 _Who knows what else we could find on the way._

 _\- Lexa_

It felt like it was just yesterday she was reading the note.

 _Well, I mean,_ technically _I did read it yesterday…_

She heard a crash promptly followed be a very creative slew of curse words come from somewhere in the apartment, pulling Clarke out of her thoughts.

 _Great. There goes my lamp. Again._

With one last look at the note, Clarke tossed the sketchbook into the trash bag, and made her way out of the room and back into the apartment.

.

 _Part XV_

.

Clarke felt a weird sensation flood her body as she heard her cellphone ring from in kitchen. She dropped the trash bag by the sofa and furrowed her brows at her still intact lamp.

"Raven? Octavia?"

The only response Clarke heard was the ringing of her phone.

 _Okay… Where did they go?_

The ringing of Clarke's phone seemed to have gotten louder. With a huff, Clarke marched over to it, "alright, alright, I'm coming, for god's sake shut up."

Clarke answered the phone without looking to see who was calling.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Clarke," the voice sighed.

Clarke gasped and slid down the kitchen cabinets until she was sitting on the floor, clutching at her heart.

"Lexa."

She hadn't heard her voice for three weeks.

 _That must mean…_

No.

"How've you been? It's been some time since we were able to talk on the phone." Clarke nodded.

"It's been eight days," she replied, not having to think, the words just supplying themselves.

"Has it really been that long? Fuck…"

Clarke squeezed her eyes shut.

"What's going on, Lexa?" She couldn't control the shake in her voice.

"Clarke, I…" She heard Lexa sigh. Clarke could imagine perfectly how she must look – a crease in between her brows, a small frown tugging at her lips, a hand running through her hair pushing it back.

"Just say it, Lexa."

There was a beat of silence.

"I can't do this anymore, Clarke."

Clarke's face twisted in agony as she let her head fall back and hit the cabinets behind her.

"Look, we can try harder, okay? Long distance is hard for everyone, but, Lexa, _please…_ We're not everyone. What we have is…"

"What we have is too hard and it just… Hurts."

"Well we can Skype more and call more. We can do this. We can, Lexa. Please. We can do this."

Another sigh. "No, we can't Clarke… I can't. Not anymore."

"Lexa… I love you…"

Clarke felt herself tumbling. She couldn't figure out what was up or what was down. She could barely get through this conversation when it was actually happening, and she didn't know if she could survive the memory of it.

She had to say something, she had to do _something_ before -

"I've met someone." It was like a punch to the gut. "Someone else. She's… Here."

Clarke couldn't breathe. She was drowning in her tears and Lexa's voice and there was nothing she could do.

"I… Lexa… Please…"

"I'm so sorry, Clarke."

The sound of Lexa's voice saying her name had her clutching at her stomach. Clarke knew what the next part of the conversation was going to be and she didn't want to have it.

But she spoke anyway.

"What's her name?"

She was greeted with a tense silence.

It was the loudest thing Clarke had ever heard.

Finally she heard Lexa take a breath.

"Clarke… I don't know if…"

"Lexa. Please. Just tell me her name."

"… Her name is Costia."

Clarke's phone dropped and she knew she cracked the screen, but she didn't care. The only thing Clarke cared about was _forgetting_ this memory. She didn't want to be here anymore. She didn't want to stop breathing every time she thought of Lexa because it hurt _so much_. She didn't want to feel like a zombie, barely surviving each day.

She wanted to be someplace else.

She _needed_ to be someplace else.

Clarke squeezed her eyes shut and felt the world around her shift.


End file.
